Five Times Jackie Didn't Say I Love You
by BluePeople
Summary: ...And one he did.  Favell and Rebecca.  Warnings for kiddies making out, and for later incest.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Please let me know what you think of these - I really want to know what other people think of this pairing. I'm sure Favell is wrong in saying he and Rebecca were in love... but on the other hand, I think Mrs Danvers was wrong to say that he was just like any other lover. I bet the truth is somewhere in between.**

* * *

1.

Jackie was thirteen, his favorite cousin maybe a year older than that, and they were sitting together in a rowboat in the center of a pond on their grandparents' estate. They were drifting, because he'd stopped pulling on the oars and Rebecca certainly wasn't about to start, not in that dress of hers.

Rebecca had changed. He hadn't seen her in years, and the memories he had were vague snippets of being forced to play with dolls and teapots, being made to drink something disgusting and pretend it was wine. But now they weren't children anymore. Especially her.

He noticed that she was beautiful. And eventually it occurred to him how much better she was than the women he'd lately started dreaming about, because she was vibrant and full-lipped and _right here beside him_.

He wanted her.

A plan formed fast. He unlatched both the oars and shoved them overboard.

"Jackie!" Rebecca lunged for him but it was too late; the oars were gone, floating away.

He grinned at her. "Now we're stuck."

"Go get them! Go _get _them, you idiot, what on earth were you thinking? How are we supposed to get back?"

"I'll go get them… when I feel like it." He licked his lips and then got the words out. "But first you have to do something for me."

"Do what?" she snapped, still just annoyed, watching the oars get further and further from the boat.

"You have to let me kiss you."

_That _got her full attention all right; Rebecca stopped looking after the oars and faced him full-on, staring with her mouth wide open. "_What_? Jackie, what are you talking about?"

"I want to kiss you. Have you ever kissed anybody?"

"What? No. And I'm not going to kiss _you_."

"Yes you are – unless you want to float around out here forever." He waited while she fumed, certain that any moment she was about to admit that she was trapped and give in.

But then finally she said: "Your mother'll whip you when I tell her."

"No she won't – she hates to see me cry."

"Then I'll tell Grandfather." She hadn't missed a beat.

Jackie frowned but it didn't take him too long to come up with an answer. "I'll say you made it up. Anyway, no you won't, or everybody will know you've had your first kiss already and you're not supposed to do that. Right?"

She glared at him, but silently.

"Stop being such a baby. Just come here."

She shook her head and didn't budge, so he crawled carefully across the boat to kneel in front of her. His pants soaked through immediately but it didn't matter; there were more important things to worry about. "It's my first kiss too," he said, and held her shoulders with both hands.

"Ugh," she said, but before she could complain any more he kissed her.

* * *

2.

Rebecca had better things to do this morning than take a drive with her cousin. But Jackie was bursting with pride at having custody of a car – even if it was only for a weekend while his friend was away – and he wouldn't take no for an answer. Eventually she hung up the phone and scowled at it, then got changed.

She asked Danny to take extra care with her hair.

Jackie endured his aunt's fussing about how much he had grown, and his uncle's admonitions to be careful with their little girl, and then helped Rebecca into the car with such eagerness he almost slammed the door on her.

It turned out Rebecca adored the car. Jackie drove at speeds that were no doubt excessive, and the wind and the noise made her laugh and whoop with delight. She couldn't remember the last time she'd been so unguarded, and it was some time before she thought to glance over and see what her cousin was making of it.

Jackie saw her turn out of the corner of his eye, and looked over to her to grin. "Something, isn't it?"

She nodded. "But watch the road!"

He did, sinking back into his seat coolly and making the car purr even faster. His demeanor was new; she had never seen Jackie exude such _mastery _before, and she found she liked it. She took a moment from watching the road in order to watch him instead.

As if feeling her gaze, he nudged her and said without taking his eyes from the road: "Give me a cigarette."

"Sure. Where?" She had to almost shout to be heard over the engine.

"My pocket." He shifted a little in his seat, angling his hips towards her, and after only a moment's hesitation Rebecca stuck her hand in.

She lit him a cigarette and put it in his mouth. He took one hand from the wheel long enough to reach over and squeeze her thigh, and her breath caught. "Thanks," he called, cool.

She nodded. The wind was making her reckless, making her crave touch – and Jackie teasing her like that wasn't helping.

Her newfound fascination in men, actually, was probably _all_ Jackie's fault; she'd never cared at all for men until two summers ago when he kissed her in that rowboat! She blamed him completely. The kiss was his fault, and as for what came after, well… that was his fault too. If he hadn't looked so wicked, sitting there smirking at her with water dripping down his bare chest, she would _never _have dared declare _Well I might as well learn something new today: show me your prick._

Jackie's mind seemed to take a similar turn. He reached over again, his hand lingering longer this time, and said without looking: "Let's stop somewhere."

She swallowed and tried not to bump up against his hand. "What for?"

Finally he did look at her, and she saw that he was flushed red. "You know what for."

Rebecca was tempted, seriously tempted, but Danny had repeated warnings every day and night until they stuck. She shook her head. "I can't. Once I give my virginity away I can't get it back – and I need it. It's worth more than just an afternoon of fooling around for fun."

She could see him grind his teeth. "Rebecca…"

"_No_. Not today." But then she shifted a little closer to him and leaned over to lick his ear. His gasp was delicious. She felt around in his lap for the bulge in his trousers, and the car leaped and jerked. "Jackie! Don't kill us!"

"I won't," he managed, but barely, as she continued to explore him. He arched in his seat and struggled to keep the car steady. "If we die out here it's your fault."

She laughed. "But what a way to go! Wouldn't it be?" She found his buttons and began to open them.

"Oh- God-… Rebecca…"

"Just drive, Jackie. Faster!"

* * *

3.

Eventually the atmosphere in the church grew too oppressive, and Favell had to leave. He faked tears, sniffled loudly and persistently, and after a bit got up and fumbled his way out of the pew. People kept trying pat him consolingly as he walked past. He did his best to ignore it.

Once outside, he lit a cigarette. He sucked it down efficiently, and felt better, and was just flicking the butt away when he saw someone else coming up the walk.

His breath caught: Rebecca. Her hair was up now, her dress was a somber adult black, but still she was the most beautiful girl Favell had ever seen.

She waved. As soon as she was close enough she said: "Jack, I'm so sorry," and held out her hands to him.

He took them and kissed them and noticed that she'd grown so that he now had to look up into her eyes. "Thanks."

"How are you?" she murmured.

"Numb today." He sighed and held her hands tighter. "It was bad to see her sick. I was a mess. But the rest still hasn't…." He shrugged, then smiled at her. "It's good to see you."

"You too, Jackie." She cupped his cheek with her hand and her lips curved into something slow and sensuous. "I've been thinking about you."

He mirrored her grip, caressing her mouth with his thumb. "Are you still a virgin, Rebecca?"

She shook her head, eyes twinkling.

"Then, come on. Let's go somewhere."

"No. Discretion is everything, darling. We'd be caught."

He put his other hand on her waist. "A kiss, then."

"With pleasure." She stepped in and bent down to him.

Her kiss was deep and slow and sweet, and Favell was seized with a sudden terror that he was about to fall in love with his cousin. He pulled back and tried to break the moment by groping her roughly. "I want you," he growled.

Her fingers tickled over his ear. "I know." He had always sensed this terrifying potential in her and now here it was, turned on him full force. She was like a jungle cat. He wanted to lie down and offer his throat.

But the fact that she knew her power and rejoiced in it was one thing; to let her think he was powerless would be another. He reached up behind her neck to pull her down to him. "You watch yourself," he said softly, directly against her lips. "If you keep dangling bait in front of my face, someday soon I'm going to snatch it."

Low and throaty, her laugh. "Can't wait," she said, and kissed him again. He felt the truth of it in her kisses, in her erratic breathing and the way she pressed herself against him.

They kissed for perhaps longer than they should have. Eventually Rebecca pulled away, looked around to be sure no one had seen them, and checked them both for marks. She took his arm to tug him towards the church doors. When he sighed at the thought of returning to that grim and creepy spectacle inside, Rebecca squeezed him briefly. "I _am_ sorry about your mother, Jackie."

And he felt the truth of that too.

* * *

TBC.

**There's another batch of scenes, one of which is M-rated and kind of sweet - at least, as sweet as Favell and Rebecca can get. I'm almost done with it, and I'll probably have it in a week or so. Pretty please let me know what you think.**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: So, here are the rest. Again, be warned: the last one is kinda nasty. I faded to black when they physically got busy, but I couldn't do anything about de-raunchifying their dialog. Sorry!**

**101Witch101** – Haha I wouldn't have killed Rebecca! I like her. Or at least, I don't *dislike* her just on Max's say-so. I mean, for all we know he's a liar, and there was really nothing wrong with her in the first place… (I doubt it, but it's possible!)

**Sorinapha de l'Aro** – thanks! Glad you're enjoying it.

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4.

Favell was bursting with envy from the moment he stepped through the mansion's front door.

No – rather, he was bursting with envy even before that; he supposed it started the moment he started up the drive, or perhaps even the moment he saw the place looming in the distance.

_She's made it, _he thought. She had made it, Rebecca had _made it; _now she lived in practically a castle for Christ's sake. If he could invite his friends over to an estate like this once, just once, and tell them _oh this is where I live, _then he could die happy. He'd gladly sell his soul for a place like this.

Or his body. Which was probably how Rebecca had done it – he supposed de Winter was the one she had finally surrendered her precious virginity to in the end. De Winter certainly thought so at least. The look in the poor idiot's eyes when Rebecca smiled at him made Favell gag. Clearly the man thought the sun rose and set on Rebecca and for some inexplicable reason seemed to think she felt the same about him.

Gag. Couldn't he see the wickedness in that smile? How could he think he was the one who brought on that glow in her cheeks?

Favell supposed he was envious – just a little – about that too. Because Rebecca looked ravishing today in her wedding gown, and de Winter was the one who was going to get to ravish it right off her tonight.

Gag, gag, and double gag. It really was a shame the two of them had never managed to sneak off for a weekend together; he would have shown her such a time that the idea of settling down with old de Winter would've made _her _gag, too.

He sulked and fumed by turns, and eventually escaped the stodgy garden reception (the gardens, too, were beautiful!) to go sulk alone in the house.

He was just stepping into one of the (many!) sitting rooms, when he heard a sniffle. It seemed to be coming from an armchair that had been turned to face into a corner.

Ah, this room was occupied by another person who found the wedding unbearable. "Beg your pardon," he said, and went to go sulk elsewhere.

The sniffler gasped. "Jackie?"

_His _turn to gasp. "Rebecca? What are you doing in here?"

He hurried over to her and forcibly raised her chin so she would look at him. She had been crying. Just a little, but it was enough. "What happened?"

She shook her head and pulled free. "Nothing – it's really nothing," she assured, and sniffled again. She managed a smile. "What could be the matter on this absolutely perfect day?"

"Rebecca."

She shrugged and dabbed at her face, fixing whatever miniscule damage the sniffling had done to her makeup. "It's nothing. What's the matter with _you_ – shouldn't you be outside marveling over the ice sculpture with everybody else?"

"I'd rather be in here." _With you._ "Want a cig?"

"Thanks." She snorted as she lit it. "Though I don't think Maxim would like my smoking in the house. Or smoking at all, really."

"He doesn't know?"

She shook her head and inhaled. A few deep breaths seemed to give her her composure back, and her next look was sharp. "Really – what _are _you doing in here?"

"I can't be out there anymore." He realized, too late, that he should have been smooth and flippant, or at least lied. But it was too late now, Rebecca was looking at him quizzically, and now he had to spill. "I'm jealous. Of you, because of this place… and of Maxim, because of you."

"Ah." She laughed a little. "And to think, here I was envying people like _you_, for the freedom you're probably going to have forever, while I…."

Rebecca, envious? In this house? "Freedom is overrated."

"No, it's not."

They sighed in unison, which made them laugh. Then her eyes narrowed. "Are you really jealous of Maxim, Jackie?"

He nodded. "I don't have to tell you how good you look in that dress."

"Tell me anyway."

Gallantry was not Favell's style. He had found that a few interested _looks _were usually enough to communicate all the important things to a girl… but for Rebecca he supposed he could make an exception. "You look beautiful," he said softly – and then, as if that wasn't weakness enough, his mouth ran away with him and added: "I'd crawl over broken glass to get to your bedroom."

Rebecca's eyes glowed. Pleased, she was utterly pleased by that, but before she could rub his face in it he moved to get some of his own back. "Well… gravel at least. I'd crawl over gravel," he amended. He took her hand and kissed it.

Rebecca bit her lip, frowning suddenly, serious.

"What?" he said.

She turned to peek out into the hallway, but it was abandoned except for the permanent fixture of old Mrs. Danvers. She leaned close and whispered into his ear: "You wouldn't have to crawl over gravel; there's only carpet upstairs."

Favell gaped at her.

"I haven't taken you on a tour of the house yet, have I?" Rebecca asked brightly. Loudly. She turned to her minder. "Danny? I'm going to show Jack the upstairs. Privately." She stood and shook out her dress, then took his hand. "Come on."

* * *

5.

"Hello?"

"Hello, Max? It's Jack. Favell. Is Rebecca there?"

"No."

"Er... Look… Do you know where she is?"

"I have no idea. Try her flat in London."

"I did. She's not there either. Damn it… all right, then, I'll just have to ask you instead. I need a favor. _Don't hang up, _Max, you know I wouldn't ask if it wasn't important."

"Are you drunk?"

"What?"

"You sound drunk. You're slurring your words, listen to you."

"_Max_! Doesn't the fact that I'm standing here begging you in the middle of the night tell you something?"

"That you're drunk?"

"That I'm in trouble! In real trouble, you bastard – the kind that can get you _killed_. Do you hear me? I need help. You _have_ to help me. How do you think Rebecca would like knowing that her favorite cousin _died _because you couldn't stand to extend him some common courtesy?"

"Well… if you actually die, she'll never know."

"_Max_!"

"What do you want, Favell?"

"I need to come over. I need to stay at your place for maybe a couple of days. You need to not tell anybody that I'm there."

"Not tell anybody…? Are you hiding from someone?"

"Well aren't you a damned genius. Yes. I'm hiding from the same guys who broke my ribs and smashed up my face tonight. I apologize if I can't quite enunciate clearly enough for you through all this blood."

"What did you do?"

"_Me_? I didn't do anything! I owe people some money, that's all, and I _said _I'd have it, you know, but they want it by today and my guy is a little late giving me the rest of what I need for it. That's all. I'll have it by tomorrow, I just need a place to wait and maybe to borrow a guy to pick up the money for me and deliver it, that's all, because to be honest Max I'm not too keen to go over there in person again. … All right?... Max?... Are you there?"

"You are a worthless human being, Favell."

"Suck on it. Some of us have to make our own way in the world. So can I come to your place or not?"

"Not."

"Yeah? Sure about that? Because so help me I _will _find a way to live through this, and I _will _tell Rebecca what happened. I guarantee she won't appreciate it any more than I do."

"…"

"Max? Hello?"

"…"

"I mean it."

"Do not come up the main drive when you get here. And do not set foot in my house proper – you can hide in the boathouse, where rats belong."

"Oh Max, you're too damned kind. Rot in hell. I'll be there in a couple of hours."

* * *

6.

They'd had sex and then had wine – everything as usual. Rebecca had put the flowers he'd brought her in a vase, they'd lit some lamps since it was full dark now, and then they twined up comfortably together to talk. Everything as usual.

Until Jackie got up unexpectedly and went to stand by the window instead. "Say I married you," he said, out of nowhere. "Would it still be like this, do you think?"

She looked over at him, sharply, but he was seemingly too busy lighting a cigarette to make eye contact. She waited until he managed, and then just flashed her ring at him.

"Yeah, well, suppose I took care of that." He sat in a chair and leaned all the way back – a look she had privately termed his _gangster pose _and had never had the heart to tease him about. "What then?"

She sighed. "We're cousins."

"So? Anyways, if you were alone nobody'd fault me for moving in with you. To take care of you. Or if we were worried about it we could move away. How would anyone know?"

She went to a mirror and began fussing with her eye makeup. "You couldn't afford me, Jackie."

She peeked at his reflection and saw his cheeks redden. "That's disgusting. You're a whore," he said at last.

She shrugged. "An expensive one." He was sensitive about his (constant!) financial troubles, and it was cruel to needle him. So she waved over shoulder and added, off-hand: "Anyhow it's better like this. You know it wouldn't be the same if we were _entitled_."

"What?"

"Well, would it? I adore that you can't stay away from me – even though I am, as you said, disgusting."

"Look, I'm sorry-"

"Forget it. I suppose after all it is probably true. Max certainly agrees with you."

"Fuck Max! Don't you listen to a thing he says, you hear me?"

She faced him and smiled. "Look at you, so protective! Darling Jackie. Listen: you come here because you want me, and because you like me. And I know that. But if you came just because this is where you _lived_…"

He took a long drag on his cigarette and shook his head. "You know I'd still want you."

"Maybe. I'd like to think so. But I wouldn't _know_." She laughed then. "And what about you – don't you feel the same? Don't you love knowing that I could turn you down any time you come over – slam the door in your face and laugh at you?"

He put his cigarette out with entirely more force than was necessary. "Why the hell would I love knowing that?"

"Because I _don't_. Because every single time you come over I go to bed with you – and you know it's because I want to. You know that today – right now – I want to lie down and do terribly dirty things. Just for you."

He had risen, seemingly without even noticing. At the mention of _terribly dirty things _his eyes had glazed over and he seemed to forget all about marriage for the moment. He reached out to draw her in, and pulled one leg up over his hip. Her robe fell open and he reached inside. He was gentle with his fingers, tender even, too gentle, until she clung to him and gyrated and whimpered. So he gave her more and harder, so that soon she would say anything he wanted. He made her beg, abjectly. He made her offer herself in the most vulgar terms she could think of. He made her say she adored him.

Finally he tossed her down on the couch and wiped his hands. "Jesus H., you're sloppy," he said. It made her sloppier. "Now, if I get in that sweet cunt of yours and find it's all fucked-out and slack because you've been whoring around, I'm going to get very angry." She shivered, delighted. Jackie said the loveliest things. "So you squeeze me tight like a good girl, you hear?"

"I will, I will I will," she promised. "Come on, please? Anything you want. Please?"

He kissed her hard, and fucked her harder.

* * *

Afterwards she was lying on his chest and he waited til her breathing evened out. "Rebecca?" he whispered at last. No answer. He waited a little longer. "Rebecca – you awake?"

Nothing. So finally, _finally _he licked his lips and breathed: "I love you."

She gave his nipple a swift painful twist. He winced – she was awake after all. And probably about to kill him.

But she didn't say anything more. And eventually he drifted to sleep, wondering whether that had been just acknowledgement, or punishment, or reciprocation, or what. Knowing Rebecca, he'd never know for sure.

* * *

**The End.**

**Let me know what you thought!**


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